I don’t often complain.
Complaining doesn’t do much good.
Just makes me feel weak… the truth is, sometimes I am weak. Why am I not allowed to be weak?
My husband works his regular 48/24 shifts and I am a SAHM. In four months, I have yet to get “use” to him working two full-time positions. Only being off every third day vs only working every third day is a big difference.
I do not ask anyone for anything. We pay for everything we have ourselves. I take care of the kids, house, garden, cleaning, laundry, chores, homework, band practice, club meetings, speech therapy, going to the gym, paying bills, running errands getting groceries, doctor appointments…. you name it and I take care of it. Alone. Without a sitter, in which is the exception of one hour, four days a week, I pay a lady to keep my youngest so that I can go to the gym. We pay someone to mow the lawn because who wants to spend their whole off day tending yards? Besides, that off day is reserved for garden tending and all that comes with.
I don’t ask for anyone to watch my kids often, but when I do it’s only for a handful of hours. I either have to pay someone or return the favor. Returning the favor usually ends up meaning I pay back way more than I got.
I know that taking care of everything while my firefighting husband works his butt off is what I should do. I do so, happily, but it has a downfall.
Everyone thinks because I am capable and strong enough to handle it, that I am and have to be strong 24/7. I never need a break. I never need help. I never have down days. Even worse, the people who try to pile more on my plate, like keeping their kids because they are just plain sorry and have no priorities, or a backbone and suck at being a real adult.
I want a damn day to whine. A whole day to say me, me, me. 24 hours of acting like the countless people I know who have kids/husbands/responsibilities, yet pawn it all off on others several days per week. I just want to throw myself on the floor and scream like a 2-year-old throwing a tantrum every time something doesn’t go my way. A fat ass conniption! I want to ask everyone else for everything I need. Pour me a drink. Fix me a plate. Where are my shoes. Can you keep my kids so that I can go to the grocery store without them because I can’t ever take my kids anywhere. I don’t want to be an adult. I want to come and go as I please. I want to hug my kids when they’re being nice and go away when they aren’t I want to get government assistance by lying about who I live with and how much money people make. I want to bum money that I will never pay back to blow on things that I do not need. Ugh. I, I, I.
Things are not as they always appear.
I am NOT strong 24/7.
It comes close though.
Probably more like 18/7, because I do sleep a few hours and at least one hour a day I spend being annoyed or upset….18/7 because even when things are piling up, I know that this will pass. Just like my desire to be a sorry lump of human flesh.
Being a firefighter’s wife is a tough life. Tough doesn’t mean bad, it means that it is a constant job with no days off for most of us. We take things with a grain of salt and move on. We are strong but please, don’t expect us to be that way every waking moment. Sometimes, we have weak moments.